Hushed Torture
by Prettiest-Star
Summary: The entirety of Vincent's time with Professor Hojo. Warning: Will contain rape and severe violence, not to mention mental anguish. Don't read if you can't handle it.
1. Chapter 1

Heyo~ Ne, this is my first fanfic in a looooong time. So, be gentle, 'kay? ;3 Constructvie critisism is allowed, but no flames plzthx. But, reviews would be lovely. x3 Enjoy~

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criticism is allowed, but no flames plzthx. Hokay, review please~!

One day.

It had been one entire day since I had shot the poor bastard and had yet to revive him. True, I had never actually tried resurrecting a human before, but I have been successful with my attempts on animals. Perhaps I over estimated the difficulty of science as advanced as this.

I glanced down at the young Turk strapped to the hard, shining examination table. Despite his heart long since ceasing to beat, I didn't want to take any chances. Besides, should he awaken he was more than capable of beating me in a physical fight. The fact couldn't be denied that he had been trained for several years in just that area, whereas I was but a humble scientist.

Reaching out a hand, I ran my long fingers through raven locks. His hair was quite smooth, I noted, and even silky to the touch. It seemed that, despite being the highest ranking Turk employed by Shinra, he was still very much a clean cut individual. Not at all like a few others I'd had the misfortunate to meet. Luckily, all I had to do was send a sneer their way and they would leave. It didn't surprise me, really. No one wanted to be around "The Bastard Hojo" longer than necessary, it seemed.  
But I digress.

I left the Turk's side and swiftly made for my desk nearby. Looking down at it through my large spectacles, I gave a small sigh. Really, he was causing such a hazard in my work and he wasn't even alive. Folders were scattered about and the wooden surface was littered with stray papers. Not to mention several dirty plates were visible off to the side. I rarely eat in my lab, but for this occasion I made an exception.

Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose with an index finger, I took a seat on the spindle chair opposite my desk. My mind wandered. What will I do with the man when and if I do reverse his death? Well, he would certainly prove a charming specimen. His body was nothing but toned muscle and firm bones. Anyone would be a fool to think otherwise. If I may even be poetic, I'd say he is the vision of a God. That personality, however, is something we're going to work on.

So quiet and reserved, he is. And that's fine, believe me. I prefer people who say little. But he could at least lighten up a bit. He rarely shows emotion, and when he does it's annoyance. Typically, this is directed at an infuriating subordinate a little too eager to please. If I may say one thing in the raven's favour, it's that he does not condone sucking up. It's a trait to be admired, but just the same, it's far from impressive.

Leaning back as I raised one leg over the other, I tapped my chin. I thought about yesterday when my very own Dr. Lucrecia Crescent had caught me with a smoking gun in one hand and the Turk's body on the ground. The woman actually had the audacity to call me a monster. Naturally, that only made me laugh harder. Me, a monster? Ridiculous. I'm a man of science. For the sake of experimentation and bettering the human body, some things were just necessary. And if shooting a man was the case, so be it.

After all, it mattered not to me. The young Turk across the room really was of no value to anything. I could easily find another willing-or unwilling, it makes no difference-individual to take his place. Then again, I'd have to have easy access to one as strong as him, and that could prove a challenge. Really, it was a matter of pure luck this particular Turk was assigned to be my bodyguard. Though, I would given a replacement, I had no doubt about that. Knowing this company, they wouldn't want their top scientist without aid. Nevertheless, I can easily wave off this man's disappearance with an excuse such as he died protecting me or some such nonsense. It wouldn't be true, but the President understood all too well how I worked.

A soft sound in the otherwise silent laboratory caught my attention. For a fleeting moment, I actually thought the pathetic man had awakened. To my slight disappointment, however, it proved to only be my new born "son". He floated upright in his small incubation chamber, and apparently had awoken from his sleep. Being only an infant, he immediately began crying.

Despite the fluid surrounding him, I could still hear his muffled sobs. Rolling my eyes, I stood up and stepped closer to the tube in which he resided until my face was only a few inches from the glass. I scowled down at the brat, narrowing my eyes slightly. However, his sobs only grew louder. Slightly irritated at this point, I raised a hand and brought it down, hard, on the smooth surface.

A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I watched him look up at me in fear. Let him be afraid; perhaps he would shut up then. Stepping away from the tank, I once again found myself before my Turk. Tilting my head almost curiously at the prone form, I began thinking. What else could I do to make his heart beat again? I had already tried countless Mako injections and none seemed to do any good. I had considered putting a few Jenova cells into his body, but I decided against it; should he stay dead, it would be an awful waste.

As my mind continued to work furiously for a solution to the problem at hand, the sound of something crashing to the floor startled me out of my musings. Turning around angrily to glare at the silver headed child, I paused. He did nothing. In fact, it looked as though he had already fallen asleep.

Glancing over my shoulder, I watched a miniscule shadow scurry across the floor. At first I wasn't quite sure what it was, but a quick glance at the skinny tail attached to its rear end had my lips curling in disgust.

With steps rivaling that of a stalking panther, I approached the literal lab rat. It sat huddled in a corner, and I felt a shiver of pride race through my body. It seemed I intimidated not only humans but animals as well. Oh, this was priceless.

Leaning down slightly, I grinned at the creature in mock friendliness, and licked my lips in a menacing fashion.

"Don't worry," I cooed softly, "I'm not going to hurt you." This statement was quickly contradicted, however, as my hand closed around it's middle. With a satisfied chuckle, I felt rather than heard its ribcage break within my grasp. Dropping the rat haphazardly onto my desk, I smirked at its crumpled form, trying in vain to get away.  
Tsking, I extracted a scalpel from one of my desk drawers. "Such a bad patient," I said softly, gently tracing the sharpened end down its chest, "No matter, I can still take care of you."

With that, my eyes traced over my desk swiftly. With a disarming smile, my hand reached out to grab hold of several thumb tacks. Pinching one between my index finger and thumb, I lowered it to one of its two front paws. Putting slight pressure onto it, I ignored it shrill squeaks of pain. Taking the other, I repeated the process with its other paw until its front legs were outstretched and literally pinned to the wood.

"That should do," I mumbled more to myself than anything. Once again taking up the scalpel, I slowly punctured the flesh just below his neck and trailed it downwards, coming to a rest just before its concealed genitals. With naked hands, I peeled apart its chest skin and gazed inside. It was slightly difficult to differentiate between each organ and bone due to its ribs being reduced to mere bits and pieces. Not to mention several tea spoons of blood ran down its sides and onto the table, so this did obscure my vision. But after extracting a small flashlight from my lab coat and shining it inside, I could see clearly.

The rat's heart was beating furiously, trying in vain to compensate for the loss of blood. At this rate, the creature wouldn't last long, but it mattered not. Pulling out a small pair of tweezers, I sifted through the shattered bones until I felt the tip push gently against something soft. Furrowing my brow in concentration, I closed the ends around the object and pulled. Held before my face was a mere lung, seeping blood while its veins dangled loosely from its sides. Pursing my lips slightly, I tossed it to the side.

After a few more moments of exploring the animal's innards, I grew quite bored. Granted, I was fairly bored to begin with. After all, dissecting rats isn't exactly a common past time of mine.

Raising my eyes to look at its face, the creature looked on the brink of death. It didn't surprise me. Giving a soft sigh and a shrug, I plucked the thumb tacks from its paws and lifted the rat from the desk. Walking towards the trash bin, I applied the pressure necessary to open it with my foot before depositing the dying body into it. As I stepped away, my eyes skittered to my side and I noticed something amiss. Glancing at the ground, I spotted a small chest laying on its side. Was this what that pesky animal had knocked over?

Approaching it, I knelt down and took it into my hands. It took me a few moments to fully register what this box actually contained, but when I opened the latch to check the damage, my mind clicked into place.

This was the solution. An entire day's worth of musings were done with. This was the way to bring the troublesome Turk back to life. My heart raced quickly and I lowered a slightly trembling hand to grasp hold of the syringe inside the chest. I gently lowered the wooden container and almost excitedly approached the being on the test table.  
My mind battled. Similar to the Jenova cells, this would prove to be an utter waste should he not wake. But with this..I was almost certain that if anything, this would revive him. And if it didn't..well, it wouldn't be the first failure. Not that it would mark against me. I hid many failed experiments from the company in which I was employed, and never spoke of them to anyone. If I can prevent it, my name will not be tarnished. Especially in the case of a worthless Turk.

With a new found sense of confidence, I swallowed dryly before lowering the syringe to the raven's arm. Peeling his sleeve up to his shoulder, I gazed momentarily to admire the series of puncture wounds littering this forearm. Those being from the Mako injections of course. However, I had noticed right from the beginning that this arm was more battle-weary than his right. I easily assumed this was the arm he used for defense, the other being his gun arm. It was a shame, really. The boy had lovely skin.

I slowly slid the needle into his arm and after only a moment's hesitation, applied the appropriate amount of pressure in which to inject the gene into his body. To begin with, nothing at all happened. Disappointment laced my features. It seemed this specimen was destined to be a failure. Giving a soft sigh, I dispensed the needle into the nearby waste bucket. Oh well. If need be, I can always blame that woman. She never was all that good at science anyway.

As I turned to leave the room, my footsteps froze. I spun around quickly, eyes scanning over the Turk's body. The sound was unmistakable. Breath escaped the man's parted lips as colour returned to his face. A wide grin stretched my face and I raced back towards the examination table. I flinched backwards immediately, however, as a violet aura surrounded his body. Gradually, traces of what appeared to be lightning shot through the purple encasement. The orb finally expanded enough to completely consume the boy's body with essence of pure Chaos.

Suddenly, his back arched from the table and with a fury, he began struggling against the bonds that held him. A choking gurgle fought its way from his throat, though his eyes remained firmly shut. I fleetingly wondered whether or not those straps were strong enough to hold him, but I pushed the thought away. Gazing in awe at the sight before me, the Turk's body slowly lowered itself back onto the metal table.

I hesitated for a moment or two, deciding whether or not it was safe to approach. Curiousity won, however, and I was suddenly very aware of how loud the sound of my footsteps were in the quiet room. Once I was within a few inches of the table, I peered down at my newest test experiment, grinning widely as scarlet eyes gazed up at me in unmistakable fear and confusion.

"Welcome back, Vincent Valentine."


	2. Chapter 2

I watched with glee as Vincent struggled in vain with the leather straps. Fortunately, they proved strong enough that not even the highest ranking Turk could break through.

Brilliant.

"Hojo!" he shouted, wriggling his torso to and fro, "What the hell is going on?"

I answered with a simple chuckle before lowering a hand and cupping his cheek.

"I'm taking care of you, Valentine," I replied as though it were the simplest fact to digest. Leaning down once again, I spoke in a tone just above a whisper, "In all seriousness, you should be thanking me." With that, I leaned back and simply stood, smirking at the flicker of incredulous disbelief within his ruby orbs.

"Where. Is. Lucrecia?" he ground out, twisting his neck to the side so as to get away from my touch. Honestly, I could have laughed at the image. And I did. It wasn't hysterical, but it wasn't a mere chuckle either. I suppose I may have just been that giddy to finally have Valentine within my grasp. He had proved nothing but a burden to me ever since he arrived, and soon he was going to learn that I do not tolerate burdens.

"She's fine," I replied, sobering up with a slight narrowing of my eyes. What gave this..thing the right to ask about _my _wife, hm? I had known for quite some time, of course, that he was foolishly in love with her, but that still gave him no right to demand things whilst under my mercy. Such insolence.

But I chose this time to ignore it. Now wasn't the time to talk about Dr. Crescent and his meaningless emotions. Turning away swiftly, I traced my steps back to my disorderly desk and quickly swiped a clean surgery knife from within my supplies bag. Approaching the Turk's form, I stood at his side, simply observing him. The blood from the gunshot wound was still staining his blue uniform, however after reaching out a hand and peeling the ironed cotton away, I saw that there was no longer a wound. In fact, there was no sign it had even been there in the first place. Interesting.

Truthfully, I didn't know all that much about the Chaos gene. It was common knowledge to my department that it housed a demon of sorts, and when given a host it could do all sorts of unimaginable things. However, I was not aware that it healed grievous wounds, let alone possessed the power to bring back the dead. Though, I wasn't complaining. This was, after all, quite the pleasant surprise.

Curiously, I brought the knife down and stroked it along his left arm, watching as a small trail of blood formed almost immediately. Just as quickly, however, it diminished, leaving no trace in its wake. I ignored his sharp inhale of surprise rather than actual pain and repeated the action, only slightly harder. Again, the same result.

I furrowed my brow. This was quite miraculous, actually. Never before had I seen a serum that could instantly heal wounds, no less fatal ones. Fairly confident in this theory, I shifted the knife's position in my palm so that all of my fingers wrapped around its hilt. Carefully, I lowered it to the spot directly above his heart and slowly dug into it.

Giving into the faint twitch of my lips as Vincent cried out softly, I continued applying the appropriate pressure until the blade was buried into his heart as far as it would go. A choked cough made my eyes rise to his face and I noted with dull interest that blood was seeping from his sputtering mouth. With a soft sigh I jerked the utensil from his body with more force than was probably necessary. Glancing down, I watched as he shivered violently for a few moments before holding absolutely still. Taking my eyes away to look at the man's chest, my eyebrows raised fractionally. In no time at all, this fatal injury had vanished as well. This was getting interesting.

Vincent's eyes looked frantically at his chest, no doubt expecting a puncture mark quite gruesome. To his obvious surprise, there was nothing but a considerable amount of blood, and his eyes widened. Looking directly at me, however, they narrowed once again.

"What..did you do?" he asked in a carefully controlled tone. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he would strangle me, would he have the chance. "This..what did you _do_?" he repeated, this time with more force, gritting his teeth.

I let the wide smirk that threatened to come forth stretch across my face. "I saved you," I replied simply, "You were dead, and now you're not." I chuckled at his face and watched with amusement as his fists clenched angrily.

"Bastard!" There's that nickname again, "_You _shot me!"

I had to repress the urge to roll my eyes at such a blatant claim. Honestly, it was about time he touched the subject. I was beginning to get anxious I wouldn't get to talk about it at all.

"Finally catching on, are we?" I asked in a mocking tone, but didn't pause long enough for him to make a scathing remark. "Yes, I shot you. But you're not dead anymore, are you?" Giving a deceiving smile, I continued. "No, I revived you. As is expected of a scientist of my caliber." Oh, was I bragging again? From the twitch in Vincent's eyes, I took that as a silent yes.

"What are you planning?" he questioned, ignoring my boast.

I tilted my head and presented him with another smirk. "Oh, I actually haven't got much planned, Valentine. I'm just..making it up as I go along, really." This wasn't entirely the case, but oh, how I loved to get under his skin. Evading obvious questions seemed to be one of the few things that truly irritated the younger male, so I made certain that this happened occasionally.

Hearing his soft growl, I regarded him with a cool glance before continuing. "Well Vincent," I very nearly spat the name, "you're going to be assisting me in a few experiments." At the suspicious furrowing of his brows, I elaborated further with a smile. "You're to be a specimen of sorts."

I had to laugh at the sudden enlargement of those sparkling eyes. Really, was it _that _surprising? I thought it would be obvious, being strapped to a table with numerous sharp utensils scattered about the room. Oh well, I suppose not all of us were blessed with common sense.

"You mean to..use me to test your theories?" he asked, voice lowered to a mere whisper.

"Oh very good, Vincent!" I exclaimed in a tone not unlike congratulating a child, and had to restrain myself from lowering a hand and patting him on a job well done. I didn't want to come off as _'too' _condescending, after all. As he opened his mouth to no doubt yell at me, I reasoned that it was only fair to be truthful, at least in measured amounts. "Yes, I'm going to be testing a few things on you." A "few" meaning several, and that meaning easily over a dozen.

"I don't want to be your test subject!" he shouted, struggling once again, "Get someone else to be your lab rat, because I want absolutely no part of it!" Ah, such a foolish little boy. Didn't he know now that the moment I had revived him, it was logically my decision whether or not to put him to good use? To be perfectly honest, his very life belonged to me.

"Vincent, someone in such a..mediocre position should feel honoured to be my experiment," I said mockingly slow, "Naturally, you will be held in the highest regards once I'm finished with you." Which, knowing me, won't be for quite awhile. True, I do grow bored with redundant tests, but I had the feeling the raven laid out before me would prove quite the intriguing spectacle.

"Furthermore," I pressed, "You are my responsibility. I owe it to the public to keep them protected from that which is inside of you." I let a small smirk grace my features.

Valentine didn't seem to entirely comprehend what I said. I didn't blame him; the thought hadn't occurred to me until an outside force had directed it to me after all. I decided to let him stew in his own musings for awhile. Let him consider his options; at least he wasn't yelling.

"But," he began, "Lucrecia--"

"doesn't care," I lied and raised an eyebrow while letting a smug smile light my face, "She told me she would prefer to not be around you, I'll have you know. She was all too happy to allow me to have a new specimen to test on." To be perfectly honest, the stupid woman had no idea I had used what I did, and I wouldn't tell her unless necessary. This situation did not concern her.

Feeling quite confident suddenly, I leant down once more to run a hand his through obsidian locks. Of course, he jerked away again, but he wasn't able to conceal the look of hurt that flashed across his face. I wasn't surprised; despite being a Turk, he still was nothing but an emotionally unstable child. No doubt he felt betrayed by my little white lie, though I could tell there was some denial still flittering around in his mind. Let it not be said that he's a stupid individual. Vincent was trained not to entirely believe something lest he bare witness. That wouldn't be a problem; it wasn't necessary to make him believe every word I said. So long as he remained a loyal test subject, I had no qualms.

Still, somewhere within me I felt a thrill of joy that I was able to tweak his feelings to this degree. I made a mental note to increase physical contact as well as mention Dr. Crescent. They both seemed to get under his skin quite a bit.

The raven seemed to pull himself together before glaring vehemently at me. "That still doesn't give you the right to use me," he said in carefully controlled tones. He knew just as well as I that displaying too much emotion would only lead to exploitation. "Now let me go, Hojo."

I honest to Gaea laughed at this. "How did the notion of making demands seep into that little head of your's?" I said, slowly sobering up, "Don't you understand? You're in no position to make requests, Valentine." I offered a faint sneer at the blatant audacious attitude. Really, had he no respect for the man that saved his life? True, I had been the one to end it in the first place, but it was out of sheer protection. He was simply beside himself, ready to attack me at the drop of a hat.

Oh, it was a trivial matter. The man was upset by me not allowing Dr. Crescent to see our child, but she knew what was coming. She knew all along that the boy was nothing more than an experiment. And of course because I am the father, it only made sense that I was to make the ultimate decision. Apparently he disagreed.

I could tell Vincent wanted to reply with undoubtedly a hatred-laced remark, and he even opened his mouth, but I wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with much more sass. It wasn't as though I didn't enjoy getting under his skin, but there's only so much of someone you can take before they become a little tiresome. Once again, I raised the knife and quickly pressed the sharpened tip to Vincent's tongue, causing him to tense up almost immediately.

"What's the matter, boy?" I taunted and applied more pressure until slow but steady red beads dropped from the muscle, "Cat got your tongue?" Sure, I did enjoy his angry protests, but I was also well aware there was to be some speech about how he would get out of this and destroy me. I knew it by heart from other subjects, and not one of them was able to pull through with their threat. Besides, there's only so much immaturity I can take before someone is stabbed.

I watched as he tried to carefully slide his tongue away from the blade, but I only pushed down harder, threatening to cut into the muscle lining his teeth. As he slowly relaxed, I removed the knife slowly and patted him on the head. "There, that wasn't so hard now was it?" I said in a mockingly soothing tone. Vincent needed to learn to obey and accept orders without back-talking. And if this was the only way he would listen, I honestly had no problem with it.

As soon as the knife slid from his mouth, Valentine closed his mouth tightly and attempted to nurse the bleeding wound. Apparently he had forgotten that all manner of injuries heal instantly. I would not have implanted such a potentially fatal wound just now had I not known that; he would prove to be very useful, and I wouldn't be living up to my namesake were he to die the first day I had him.

Giving a sneer to the boy, I turned away to glance at the metal tray beside the table. I hadn't laid all of my supplies there, as I wasn't prepared to take too many chances, but I had a fair few. A large scalpel and a pair of scissors, tweezers and puncture needles, an artificial leech, empty syringes, and finally a trephine. True, one or two of my instruments could be considered "outdated" and even "hazardous", but I found them no less effective.

My open hand seemed to stroke the air above each utensil as I contemplated which one I should use first. The knife had already served its purpose; for the time being anyway. I had no doubt it would come in handy in later of course.

Lifting an eyebrow thoughtfully, I was suddenly aware that I wouldn't actually be capable of thoroughly making use of the boy if every little scratch I made healed within a few seconds. I raised the hand that hovered and brought it to my face to tap my chin.

No, this wouldn't do. The Chaos gene had served its purpose, but it was now interfering with further tests. Logically, the ideal action to take would be to extract it from his blood stream. But not only was that bordering on impossible, I didn't know the results of it. Perhaps the boy would live, perhaps he'd die once more. And if in fact he _did_ die, what was I do to?

I hadn't realized I had been muttering to myself until the Turk spoke up. "Chaos..gene?" he repeated, pure emotional denial soaking each word, "You injected me…with the _Chaos gene?_"

Oh dear, he sounded rather upset, didn't he? Letting a false smile slide onto my lips, I turned to him. "Why, yes I did," I confirmed cheerfully, "And that is now exactly why you're alive. Really, Valentine, you should be thanking me on bended knee." I smirked calmly at the image. That would be quite a delight, to have such an arrogant young man finally realizing just how little he was worth. With luck, this little endeavor would bring forth that realization.

"That wasn't your's to use!" he shouted, once again struggling furiously in his bonds, "That was Lucrecia's!"

I raised an eyebrow at that little outburst. "Don't you know anything, boy?" I asked, lowering my voice threateningly, "Dr. Crescent may be my wife, but she is first and foremost my lab assistant. Anything she owns in the scientific field is mine."

I could easily hear the unspoken words. Not only was he angered that I would use something developed by his so-called "love" without permission, but I understand all too well that he was appalled that I did not consider Dr. Crescent so much as a wife as a tool. Truthfully, I saw no reason why I should see her as a significant other before an employee. She proved little to no use after giving birth, but has been moderately beneficial in the work field. In a logical opinion, she was far more use to me as a subordinate than a spouse.

Not bothering to give him the chance to reply, I turned away once more. At the moment, he was proving to be a distraction; that wasn't something I would abide by. The problem at hand was thinking of a solution to this apparent instant healing he now possessed. My eyes traced over each sharp tool before locking onto one of the few syringes. Grinning widely, I plucked it from the tray and brought it closer to Valentine.

I ignored the momentary glimpse of panic across his face and without warning, forced the tip into his arm. Slowly, I drew the blood out until all 12 milliliters of the barrel were full. Extracting the needle with a quick tug, I wordlessly returned to my desk.

Taking a seat absently as my eyes were fixed on the red liquid, I reached out blindly for a clean Petri dish. Having successfully grasped one, I brought it closer and opened it, before applying gentle pressure to the plunger. I watched through my glasses as exactly five drops fell from the tip and onto the glass surface. Not wanting to contaminate the sample from any floating bacteria, I quickly placed the lid overtop the dish and sealed it shut.

I took this moment to stand up and stride swiftly to the microscope situated at the far side of the room. Slipping the Petri dish just below the lens, I bent over so as to peer inside. There was the usual: Blood vessels, glucose, quite a bit of Mako, traces of blood and muscle tissue, and.. I peered closer as I adjusted the vision setting. There it was. My upper lip curled in mild delight as I gazed upon the chromatic Chaos gene.

It seemed that now I could set to work divulging a plan to break through its barrier, if only for a short while.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hokay, before you read, please know that, despite it sounding like it, there's no rape.

…Yet. -cough-

But, there is a torture scene, so be forwarned. Ehhh….there's some minor molestation….but no rape. Yeah, that's gonna be later. Also, before you read, keep in mind that from this chapter on, Hojo's starting to…slightly lose it. If something doesn't make sense, trust me, I made it that way. It's been proof read and whatnot, I just want to get across that, despite being a complete genius, Hojo's thought process isn't always clear. X3; As always, enjoy and review!

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In all of my life, I had never felt so foolish. So nonsensical. So..

Angered.

I had spent the last several days analyzing that God forsaken '_Chaos blood'_, and was able to find no results. The very thought became something of a prayer in my mind that it was his fault. I knew it had to be. However, imagine my immense surprise when I learned the answer to my problem was right under my nose.

Allow me to me clarify.

Sitting for days on end with little food and no rest and cause a man to lose his temper. Now I'm a patient man. So patient, I might add, that in the past I've been physically struck and had not reacted. So patient, that I've had a great deal of experiments fail, and without a second thought thrown them away. So patient, that I've had a useless Turk in the same room as me for over seventy-two hours and done very little to take my anger out on him, no matter how well deserved it would be.

I inhaled deeply; now, I'm still patient. I rarely actually lose my temper in situations, as most could say. Usually, I leave it to the other party to become upset, while I remain calm and collected. Even a moron would know it's far easier that way. Losing one's temper during an uneven situation only breeds more anger. Being a scientist, a man of facts, logic, and having a stable sense of being, I am not an emotional man. As such, anger is a feeling I cannot say I am well accustomed to. That doesn't mean, however, that I don't recognize it for what it is.

When truly angered, I may throw something, not unlike a child having a temper tantrum. But I do it in private, of course. I never wish to be seen as unprofessional. In most cases, however, I shove it down and simply set to work. Whether it be a strengthened form of Mako for the SOLDEIRs, or else a device in which to get my revenge, it doesn't matter. As long as it's scientific and somehow directly linked to chemistry and biology, it can ease my mind with little difficulty. This time, however, was quite different.

The answer to my plight was something so painfully obvious I literally kicked my desk, resulting in the many blood-stained Petri dishes to smash to the floor. It mattered little to me at the time, as I paid them no mind. I did, however, notice out of the corner of my eye that my raven had jerked, as if I had scared him out of a shallow sleep. I glared at him crookedly before marching quickly towards him and backhanding him across the face.

I knew the expression on his face; he was mocking me. I could tell. Just who did he think he was? He was nothing. Nothing but a nameless Turk soon to be thought dead and forever at my mercy. This wasn't going to tolerated, and he was going to learn. In my current state of mind, I didn't care how, but he would. I'd find a way to shatter that defiant glint in his eyes if it was the last thing I did.

First, however, a small operation was to take place. Swallowing my anger with only slight hesitance, I swiftly turned away and rummaged through one of my tall bookshelves. The only thing capable of combating the demon known as Chaos..Dr. Crescent obviously put it somewhere, as I had left it to her own devices. Never before had I dreamed I would actually find some use for it, but if I was to fully and thoroughly expose Vincent Valentine's body inside and out, I would require it.

I stood up higher, sliding my fingers over the tips of the top shelf. It strained my work-weary body to an extent, but I paid it no matter. Now was the time for punishment, not my own physical short-comings.

I nearly cried out with joy as the tips of my long fingers brushed across a small, hand-held chest. Grasping hold of it quickly, I tugged it down and lifted the lid slowly. A wide grin spread over my face as I gazed adoringly at the breath-taking orb. It was oddly surrounded by a dark blue, but within lay a soft violet shape, interestingly forming an image of a nucleus. I let the chest fall from my hands and dimly registered the sound of it hitting the floor. My attention was focused attentively on the Protomateria within my grasp, and little else could distract me.

Approaching the boy's side once again, I finally found it within me to tear my eyes away from the sphere. Noticing his wary and suspicious expression, I lowered my free hand and gently stroked the cheek that, despite healing efficiently, remained slightly red. Once again, he turned his head to the side, but, I noticed with a slight sense of glee, not quite as forcefully. Perhaps the lack of food was finally wearing down his system.

"Oh, Vincent," I cooed, running my fingers through his hair, "I have a surprise for you." At this, his uneasy look only strengthened. He knew now that I had caught on. He hid it, and we both knew it now. He was found out, caught red-handed, and now he was to pay the price. No one makes a fool out of me. Period. And when they do? Oh..the consequences are quite dire.

Carefully, I set the Protomateria on the tray beside the table and traded it effortlessly for the scalpel. Bringing a hand near the sharpened end, I stroked it softly. Finally, you can have the thrill to cut through real human skin again, and this time it will be for a real operation. One that I know the both of us will enjoy. I slowly brought the tool closer to my face and opened my mouth before leisurely dragging my tongue along it. I could tell it sent the Turk into a fit of disgust, but I was far too engrossed in my pride and joy to care. Not that I would anyway, of course.

As I turned back to my patient, I watched him observing me closely. Smiling sweetly, I tilted my head in question. "Yes?" In return, his jaw clenched tightly, and I could actually see the veins in his neck pulsing as he no doubt restrained himself from shouting.

"What..is that, Hojo?" he asked slowly. I didn't need to follow the trail of his gaze to know what he was staring at.

"This, boy," I began, and gently lifted the orb from its resting place, "is meant to keep the Chaos gene at bay." I could just see the screws in his mind working feverishly to process this. I didn't blame him; by extension, this was something in his favour. If had a demon within my body, I'd like to keep it on a tight leash as well. Rule it rather than let it rule me, I suppose. I considered letting him know immediately the real reason of the Protomateria's usage, but decided against it. It would be far more exciting to watch what he does when he realizes its purpose.

Without further delay, I lowered the tool to his pants and with practiced ease, rip a fine line directly downward. I couldn't conceal the smile as I hear him gasp in fear, no doubt. As I had just barely brushed his groin with the sharp object, it was understandable. I didn't stay on that area for long, however, as I continued the same sweeping motion for one of his pants legs down to the knee, so as I observe the insides of his thighs. It was no secret that Valentine used his legs a fair amount during combat, and as such housed quite a lot of muscle. And along with that muscle came a fair amount of blood flow. Still..this wasn't the ideal place.

Drawing my face up his torso, I repeated the action down his chest, feeling oddly satisfied with the loud ripping sound it made in the otherwise quiet room. With the shirt gone, I could feast on the well-toned albeit slender body of my raven. Gently, I traced the tip of the scalpel down from his neck for his navel, and chuckled when I saw him shiver. To my strange delight, I watched as his nipples grew hard. Be it from fear, cold, or another reason, I didn't dwell on it for long.

"Now Valentine," I said in a wickedly calm voice, "This might hurt just a little bit. But you can endure it, can't you?" At his livid glare, I merely smiled and patted his head. "That's a good boy."

Without further delay, I dug the instrument into his shoulder, dragging it along in a curving pattern so that it half encircled his heart. Ignoring the loud cry of pain, I left the medical tool in the bleeding wound. I wasn't entirely certain, but I seemed that somewhat slowed the healing process. Quickly snatching up the Protomateria, I forced it into his shoulder. Carefully, I extracted the blade from the injury and watched as the blood soon slowed to a stop and the torn flesh mended before my eyes. It was much slower, however, almost more lazy. If I was right (which I always was), this may be a final, half-hearted attempt by the demon to fight against the Protomateria.

Never one to give up an opportunity to test a theory, I gently trailed a line diagonally from the bottom of the Turk's ribcage to his hip bone. A small trail of blood followed this, and to my utter joy it did not vanish. Very satisfied with this turn of events, I glanced at the boy. His face was turned away, as if determined not to bear witness to my ministrations. I tsked at him, but did not force him to look. He would look in do time.

"I think this will do," I said cheerfully, placing the scalpel back onto the tray, "Now Vincent, let's get you up, hm?" At this, his head did turn, but it was to look at me in momentary shock; this was then overcome by suspicion and his jaw tightened.

"What are you planning?" he hissed, eyes unsteady. I had to smile at such a valiant display. Despite being so weak, he still had the nerve to defy me. I admired his strength, but mainly because it would feel that much better to rip it from him.

Without answering his question, my hands carefully unbuckled the thick leather straps. It took a few moments, as I the belts trailed down the entirety of his body. Unintentionally, the palm of my hand brushed along his inner thigh and I felt him tense. Chuckling quietly, I innocently let the tip of my index finger stroke back and forth. I didn't keep this up for long, however, as I was still determined to show him that arrogance is a personality trait not permitted in my laboratory.

As all the bonds came undone, I easily sidestepped his clumsy attempt to strike me. After being held immobile for over a week, and very little nourishment to boot, there was no way he was capable of successfully executing an accurate blow, let alone a fatal one. Stepping back into place, I tilted my head and smiled coldly.

"That wasn't very nice, Vincent," I chided, and my smile only widened at the growling emitting from Valentine's throat. I mentally noted it sounded much lower than before. Perhaps Chaos was showing through? Now that would prove to be a quite a treat.

Now, as most would say, my strengths lie within my work.. This is partially true, but if I may say so, I'm highly underestimated. True, I'm not one for physical confrontation, but I'm more than capable of defending myself. Just the same, beneath my lab coat, one might be surprised to find my pictorials quite to the female population's liking. But this was beside the point.

My arms slipped underneath Vincent's body and I easily pulled him into a sitting position, his back to my front. I could feel him tense once more and the unmistakable shaking of anger fueled my mind. He attempted to kick out, but it was in vain. His muscles were growing weak, and any hope he had of running were no doubt crushed.

"Hojo," he growled, raising a hand as his head turned to the side to grip tightly at one of my long bangs, "Let. me. go." The pure, unadulterated _'hatred'_ within those red eyes almost had me backing doing exactly as he said. I held my ground, however. It was very likely that Chaos was once again acting out, though was unable to fully morph with the Protomateria present. I raised a hand and covered Vincent's, nearly to the point of crushing the bone before he reluctantly loosened his grip from my hair.

Satisfied with my show of dominance over the beast, I moved one arm so that it supported the weight below his knees and rested the other just below his shoulders. Lifting him up into the air in the manner not unlike a groom carrying his bride, I transported his body across the lab and into one of the many long hallways leading around the manor. My footsteps were purposeful, as I had resided within these walls long enough to know it like the back of my hand. Glancing down, I noted with a pang of disappointment that his eyes were closed, but I knew he couldn't be sleeping. Was he trying to ignore me?

I felt a bubble of annoyance rise within me, but I held it down. Once I had him where I wanted, I could take out all my anger and irritation on the Turk. Only then. If I act out too soon, the satisfaction will only be half as good.

My feet stopped before a smaller door, off the path. If I hadn't known about it, it's probable I would have continued on past it. Raising a foot, I delivered a forceful kick to it with the sole of my shoe and smirked slightly as Valentine jumped in surprise. Our venture had been very, so no doubt the cracking sound of a door being forced open had shocked him.

I remained standing where I was, patiently waiting for him to observe the interior of the room. It took a few moments, and I only let the emotion flicker across his face before concealing it, but I saw the horror there.

Bones and skulls littered the floor, most huddled in the corners. The walls were stained with dark, crusted blood, and a few incomprehensible scribbles of lost hope and fading innocence could be seen every so often. In the middle of the room, a set of chain handcuffs dangled from the ceiling. A broken down skeletal figure vaguely representing a human still hung from them. Somewhat peeved that my clean up crew hadn't removed the long since dead body, I set Valentine on the floor gently. With a few quick strides and a loud "click", the bones crumpled to the floor, a few shattering on impact. Turning back to my raven, I saw him pathetically attempting to scoot away and out of the room. I shook my head at him before scooping him into my arms. The gesture alone appeared almost romantic, but taken into context, was far from it.

"No!" he yelled, and I wondered just what he was thinking I was going to do, "Let me go! Now!" If I wasn't mistaken, was there a twinge of panic within that otherwise angry voice? Well, if there wasn't now, there would be soon. "Release me!"

I removed the arm supporting the lower part of his weight and shifted my grip so that I held onto both of his wrists. Vincent's legs gave out after a few seconds, but he continued thrashing within my grasp. Whether by accident or not, I don't know, but a stray knee lifted itself quickly and made direct contact with my groin. I gasped in pain and gritted my teeth tightly. Anger washed over my form, and I couldn't contain myself much longer. Leaning down, I did the most instinctual act of dominance I could think of.

My mouth opened widely and I clamped my teeth over his neck. I continued biting down until the bitter taste of copper filled my mouth and only when his struggling ceased did I release him. Vincent's breath was coming out in pants and looked genuinely weary. It mattered not, however, as he was going to endure much more punishment because of that little show of immaturity.

In no time at all, I had the handcuffs tight around both wrists, the tips of his feet just barely touching the dirty, cement ground. The raven glared weakly at me, arms directly parallel to each other one either side of his fair face. Sending a brief sneer his way, I walked to the opposite side of the room where a large bureau stood. Trailing a hand over the top of it, my lip curled slightly. A few stray fingernails and teeth marks lay scattered along the otherwise smooth surface.

Twiddling my fingers in child-like excitement, I opened the first drawer. Inside were a wide range of tools, most of which I won't be getting into at the moment. They will be put to good use in the future, but for now I had only one thought in mind.

My fingers wrapped around the handle of a leather-bound object. Pulling it out slowly, the cat o' nine tails slipped over the side of the drawer and gracefully fell through the air in a manner that resembled liquid. If not for my grip on the hilt, it looked as if it might have pooled into black water on the floor.

Slipping off my lab coat, I turned back to my captive and I watched his eyes grow wide in fear. He knew what this was, that much was obvious. Whether or not it had ever been used on him was another story completely. I suppose I didn't really care, however, as I circled around him slowly, licking my lips once I caught sight of the wide expanse of smooth, unmarred skin. Vincent's shoulder blades stuck out oddly, though this was do to his arms' stressful angle. I raised a hand and softly ran it down his spine, grinning in delight at the choked gasp he made.

Removing my hand, I gave no warning before a loud "crack" filled the room. Valentine cried out slightly, though immediately muffled it. Ah, was this something drilled into his head, I wonder. Turk training was often long and strenuous, and I've heard they prepare you for any given situation should you be captured. It was easy to deduce that one of these rules in particular was to remain silent should you be tortured. However, that typically was only for the cases in which the enemy wanted information. In the situation at hand, I didn't need him to speak. On the contrary, he could remain as quiet as he wanted. Though, I let out a soft chuckle it wouldn't hurt to hear him screaming.

Once more, I lifted the whip and brought it down against the boy's back, noting in severe satisfaction how grievously he bled without healing. I continued this several more times in quick succession, each time watching his body jerk in pain.

Several minutes went on like this, striking him continuously, and hearing him emit the smallest of whimpers and yelps of pain. At one point, I had come around to catch a glimpse of his face and raised an eyebrow at the sight of his face. Though his eyes refused to spill tears, his lip had a small stream of blood falling from it. Vincent's upper row of teeth continued biting into the open wound furiously, no doubt trying to distract himself from the pain behind him. I just offered a warm smile once his eyes opened before continuing my earlier ministrations.

I decided to try a different tactic; one that might make him actually cry out words. Now, don't be mistaken. Forcing him to cry out still was not my main goal here, but I can't help it if it's an added bonus.

After carefully aiming, I swung the leather down forcefully and successfully hit a wound at the exact angle it was already at. This resulted in the cut deepening and more of his blood spilled forth. I continued this a few more times until he finally cried out once more. This time, however, it wasn't just unintelligible shouting. It was my name.

It wasn't a pleading or begging cry, however. And it wasn't broken. If anything, it was anger. But the fact remained: He had cried out _'my' _name.

I dropped the whip to the floor and approached Vincent slowly, wrapping my arms around his slender waist. I didn't care that the open wounds were steadily seeping blood into the front of my clothes, and I didn't care that he let out another choked noise as I aggravated them. One of my hands slid slowly along his front and over the lower part of his belly. Smirking, I dipped the tip of my index finger into his navel and felt rather than watched him squirm in obvious discomfort.

Opening my mouth, I dragged my tongue along a particularly deep injury, lapping up the blood in a manner similar to a mother cat cleaning her kitten. He gasped and set forth a number of profanities I didn't know were within his vocabulary. Chuckling softly, I used my free hand to trace a long fingernail down one of the flogging marks and slipped it inside, scratching the already irritated skin.

"Now now, Vincent," I reprimanded him softly, pausing the smirk at his sharp gasp, "language."

"Fuck your language," he spat, only to cry out once more as my hand slipped lower to brush over his nether regions. He twisted sharply, back arching unintentionally towards me. I chuckled lowly and once again lapped at another wound.

My hand gripped onto the limp form of his penis through his trousers and I ran my hand softly along the shaft, thumbing the head. He writhed against me and let out a hoarse shout, and I assumed his voice must be growing quite tired. Chuckling, I removed my hand and let it caress one hip before stepping away from his form.

I stood still a moment to admire my work. His wounds still dripped blood, but to my surprise weren't quite as bad as I thought (and hoped) they would be. I suppose it was a possibility that, despite the Materia preventing Chaos from taking action, he might still be capable of mildly healing Vincent's body. Truthfully, that worked just fine for me. That way, the Turk might actually heal on his own without my having to intervene much. It may be a slow process, but this allowed me to test to me hearts content without having to worry too much about the consequences.

My feet led me to a darker corner of the room where a rusty sink sat. On the counter lay a chipped, dry bowl. It had been quite some time since I allowed Valentine anything to drink, and I really wouldn't want him dying of dehydration. With only a moment's worth of difficulty, the faucet began pouring cold, though surprisingly clear water. Stalking back to the boy, I held the bowl to his lips.

He raised his head and looked at me, eyes half-closed and near unconscious. Standing up straight, I tilted his head back and slowly let a light stream of water seep into his mouth. Almost immediately, his body's natural reaction kicked in and he gulped greedily. It wasn't long before the bowl was empty, and, despite my better judgment, I filled it and repeated this process twice more.

Certain that he wasn't going to die anytime soon, I easily unlatched the handcuffs and caught him quickly before his body hit the floor. I carried him in the same manner back down one of the hallways, but to my surprise he had passed out within my arms. It was strange, really. To think one that hated me so much would actually allow himself to slip from reality and into blissful sleep while at my utter mercy. He knew the things I could do to him while he slept, and yet his body's undeniable _'need'_ for sleep seemed too powerful to resist.

Stepping once more into my lab, I laid him on the table, on his front this time, as before and strapped him down. Feeling momentarily and uncharacteristically generous, I laid a towel over his bare back. It wasn't as if I was concerned for his health per se. More so, I wasn't all that keen on letting his injuries become infected. I didn't have a good grasp on the level of the demon's healing abilities, what with the Protomateria interfering.

Stepping away from the Turk's prone form, I tilted my head thoughtfully. Despite the many wounds, he was still quite breath taking. Inky hair framing an almost angelic face definitely drew most people of either sex in. I hummed softly without another word, turned away. Standing in the threshold of my lab, I glanced back once more and felt my lips twitching in amusement.

"Tomorrow," I whispered, "we're going to really experiment."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Yo, Star again~ Ne, I'm likin' the number of hits I'm getting. Maybe it's really getting pretty popular, huh? X3 True, the amount of reviews is a li'l disheartening, but I'm kinda gettin to like this story. Ha, as all psychiatrists say it, we're all a little sadistic, right? ;3 Enjoy more of le Vinnie torture~ Oh, 'fore I forgettttttt~ I'mma reply to le reviews! 8D Yeah, 'cause I neglect that a crap load…

Demon Sin: Ah, I'm glad you liked the rat scene in the first chapter. Seriously, I was just trying to fill up space. But I did figure "Hey, if I was a crazy rapist scientist...and bored...I'd pro'lly lookit a rat's innards! 8D" X3 As for Hojo's craziness...yeah, he's uhh.. He's gonna get more crazy, just watch. x]

Super Banana: Thanks, chica. ;3 I was hoping I got Hojo's..flippin'...insane crap down alright. x3; I tell ya, it's hard! He's like...goddamn...not anything like me. Buuuut, what can I say? Torturin' Vinnie's fuuuuuun. X3 'Gain, thanks for all the feedback, half o' what keeps me going. ;3

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The next morning I came back to my work place with quite a shock.

Upon stepping into my tightly secured laboratory, I heaved a great sigh. Glass beakers lay shattered on the tiled floor, a blend of chemicals dripped steadily off of high shelves, a monitor was damaged beyond repair, several folders along with their finely organized papers were ripped to shreds and coated the floor in an almost snow-like image.

Turning my gaze to the far right corner of the room, I shook my head in disappointment. Vincent's form lay, slumped and unconscious, with numerous scratches on his face and large tears in his clothing. Glancing at the medical table, I noted with idle interest that the thick leather straps I was assured would be strong enough to hold down a Chocobo were positively destroyed. Either a mutant Chocobo had come to set Valentine free before running rampant in my lab, or the Chaos gene went out of control. I assumed the latter.

I approached the Turk's body and knelt on one knee before him. Reaching out a hand, I cupped his chin and tilted it upwards. As I did so, his limp mouth fell open slightly and my eyebrows raised fractionally. His canine teeth were no longer dull like a regular human's, but rather sharp like an animal. Perhaps one of the side effects? I would have to take notes of this.

Turning away, I made my way to the phone which miraculously lay intact on my desk. Making a quick call, I ordered a new examination table complete with a clean up crew. Once again taking Vincent into my arms, I walked again down the hallway and into the room we had visited one day prior. I can never be too careful, so I once again shackled his arms to the ceilings and turned to leave, before something out of the ordinary caught my eye.

Now usually I wouldn't be quite so keen with such a minor detail, but I had been keeping a close eye on my raven. With his back to me, the dozens of whipping cuts had turned a light red colour and had already closed up. What caught my attention, however, was something that could easily be mistaken for flogging marks, but I knew were not. On either side of his spinal chord, Vincent bore symmetrical vertical lines. The trailed from the backs of his shoulder blades down to just above his kidneys. Not only were they too perfect to be made from a whip, but they were still an angry scarlet. Though I was beyond intrigued at this point, I decided to leave it be for now.

~*~

Two hours and one trip back to the lab later, I stood before the brand new medical table. This time was different, however. It was longer and wider, and thus supplied more support for the patient, not to mention reinforced with titanium steal padded with leather. To be fair, I also had a slight cushion installed into the top of it. Though a specimen, Valentine was still my guest. As such, I didn't want him getting terrible back pains, did I?

Not long ago, I had pulled up a chair and sat beside him, waiting patiently for him to awaken. I raised one leg and crossed it over the other almost elegantly, entwining my fingers and placing them in my lap in a most contemplative position. I suppose I was once again in the same place as I was two days ago. Having to put use to a rarely used virtue of mine while my experiment remained slumbering, temporarily unaware of reality.

I suppose it was necessary for the human psyche, though. In order to deal with a stressful environment, the mind can often shut down and fail to respond. Under these circumstances, however, it was more than likely he had simply fallen asleep from exhaustion. And if my theory was correct and Chaos had gotten loose, it wouldn't surprise me Valentine would be rendered momentarily comatose. I had tried a fair amount of stimulants, anywhere from pricking pressure points with a needle to another Mako transfusion. Both proved futile.

Leaning back into a more comfortable position, I pondered what else the Chaos gene was capable of. Destruction, that much was obvious. It had emotion, as far as I could tell. Did it act out because of instinct and pure impulse, or did it hold grudges? Did it have memory and feelings for other living beings? Perhaps it was incapable of actual human emotions, but could mimic them.

Which brought on more questions. What did it look like? Its teeth must resemble fangs more than anything else. And what of other physical attributes? Perhaps horns or claws, hair even? What colour was its skin, if indeed it had it? Furthermore, were those identical red stripes on Vincent's back from it? If I wasn't mistaken, it could very well possess a large set of wings.

I was taken from my musings from a small groan before me. Glancing down, I watched as scarlet eyes fluttered open. They slowly roamed the room before coming to a stop on me, and they began to focus more before narrowing. Ah, it appeared that even when barely conscious, that ever-present hate lives on. It was almost enough to make me laugh.

Almost.

"Finally awake, are we?" I asked, lifting my lips into a kind smile, "How was your rest?" He didn't answer me and kept his mouth shut, fixing me with that flare. It mattered not, so I continued.

"You know, you caused quite a mess last night. '_Such' _a mess, that I had to call a crew in to clean

up after you. Now, that's not very courteous of others, is it?" I remained smiling at him in such a warm way that if one were to only watch my facial expressions, they would think I was being as kind as can be. Valentine's nostrils flared slightly, but he remained silent.

"Yes," I continued, standing up to pace slowly in front of him, "I called them in, and you know what else? I had to even ask them to replace the table _'you'_ broke. Quite remarkable, really. Three inch leather straps can't seem to restrain you, hm? Not with your strength." My lips curled into more of a smirk as his breathing sped up, clearly trying to focus on not causing a scene.

I walked back to him and reached out a hand to pat his hair gently. I laughed in a friendly manner as he jerked away, before I took my leave momentarily. Minutes later, I returned to him with a large, sparkling glass of pure ice water and a tray of freshly cooked food. Taking a seat once more, I lifted it to my lips and took a sip. Humming appreciatively, I ignored him. I could tell that, in spite of his dignity, he desperately craved the moisten his dry mouth.

After a few minutes silence and draining about a fourth of the glass, I pretended to just then take notice of him, eyeing the water as though he were a eunuch gazing at the sight of a thousand dollar prostitute.

Without a word, I stood and took a few steps closer to him before slipping the palm underneath his head. I helped him to lift it up and brought the rim of the glass to his lips. Perhaps he had forgotten that I had already given him water last night, or else he didn't care, but he seemed to throw his pride to the wind and took large sips, not pausing once to breath until the glass was empty. I gently removed my hand and set his head back down onto the lightly cushioned surface before stepping away and exchanging the empty glass for the tray of food.

I watched the boy subconsciously lick his lips at the sight of steaming vegetables, succulent fruit, and red meat. His shoulders even twitched slightly as though he wanted to sit up, though his body reminded him that it wasn't possible. I let out a soft laugh and reached out to stroke his hair though once again, the Turk moved his head away. I merely shrugged and plucked one grape from its stem and popped it into my mouth, chewing slowly.

As before, I averted my gaze and remained silent. _'Unlike' _before, however, I would not be taking the initiative this time. It would be up to him to tell me his body craved food, otherwise I would have absolutely no way of knowing.

We played this game for quite some time, actually. I was mildly impressed by how long he could last, but any man, sane or not, was bound to give in eventually. It wasn't until there was nothing but the steak left did he finally voice his urgency. He didn't say anything, but it was a whimper; and it was a start.

Glancing down at him, I gave him a grin. Wordlessly, I picked up the knife that lay on a perfectly folded napkin before cutting a small triangle in the moist food. I ignored the fork, however, and simply pinched it between my index finger and thumb. Leaning closer to Vincent, I placed the meat before his closed lips. For a few moments, we remained perfectly still. He seemed quite contemplative, carefully considering whether or not to take the food. I don't think he thought I had put anything in it; he knew I wouldn't poison him, and if I really wanted to inject him with something I could easily do it without tricking him. No, this was a matter of pride, and I was not going to lose.

He exhaled slightly before slowly opening his mouth. I slipped the food inside and watched him chew it slowly and swallow it with difficulty, almost as though it pained him. I once again cut into the steak and placed it at his lips, and this time he took it into his mouth with much less hesitation than before, before finally he was willingly opening his mouth in anticipation of each new heavenly bite.

Once the large piece of meat was finally consumed, I glanced down at my fingers. They dripped with the moisture that had coated the meal and that just wouldn't do. I looked at him for a moment before my lips curled into a smirk. Reaching out again, I placed my index finger at his mouth. Almost immediately, he seemed appalled and tried to turn his face away. I didn't move, however, and kept my fingers before his lips. The smell of food undoubtedly wafted from them and into his nostrils, and he licked his lips once more.

With an inhale, my raven tentatively peeked his tongue out and poked the tip of it against my finger. Swallowing his pride, he opened his lips wider and I took this opportunity to delve my index and middle finger into that sweet cavern. He looked shocked, but did not jerk away. It seemed to call of meat remnants was too strong for him, and he couldn't deny it, even with my fingers in his mouth.

"Suck," I ordered softly, and a grin slowly spread across my face as he complied, albeit reluctantly. The mere sensual act of his tongue tracing over my digits and using a small amount of suction with his cheeks would be enough to make just about any man weak in the knees. I would be lying if I said it didn't arouse me to a degree, but I had much more self restraint than others. Where the average male would have jumped at the chance to be inside Vincent Valentine, I really hadn't planned on it. If anything, a few dozens experiments would go by before I tired of him and threw him away. But now that a more..sultry side of the boy was showing through, voluntary or not, I suppose I may change my antics.

Chuckling quietly, I withdrew my fingers from his mouth and trailed them down his cheek gently. Standing up, I lifted the tray and deposited it on a counter near the main door. Without acknowledging him any further, I left the room and had no intention of returning for several hours.

I strolled down one of the well-lit corridors of Shinra Inc., hands folded behind my back and lab coat billowing softly behind me. I passed many people, most of which would cower once I sent a sneer their way. Honestly, I found myself wondering just how the majority of these people could possibly be employed at such a prestigious company. Half of the scientists --if they could even be called that-- I worked with didn't know a thing about their area. It was almost as if I was the teacher and them the student. Often times, I would grow quite irritated. Just as often, they're name would be on a resignation paper on President Shinra's desk.

However, a handful too many remained here, thinking they could one day compete with me. Such idiotic fools, really. I had been the top of my field for a considerable amount of time, enough to gain a wide range of respect anyway, and I wasn't about to lose it to some two-bit, pathetic excuse for an adult with the experience below that of a chemistry set. It was not going to happen.

My mind dabbled once more into my thoughts on Dr. Crescent. To be quite honest, I hadn't seen her since Valentine's unfortunately accident. I wasn't concerned, of course. No, she was probably avoiding me as I hear most women do when upset. It weighed nothing on my conscious; she could remain as hurt and angry as she wanted. What she doesn't want to acknowledge won't have an effect on me. She knew exactly what her child bred for. He was not to be groomed and adored, he was an experiment, nothing more. He may be human, but he was not an ordinary child. If only the woman would listen to reason, really. It's only logical that a man bred to kill monsters on the battle field cannot be weighed down by the "love" of a biological incubation chamber. It just won't do.

"Doctor!"

Oh lovely, speak of the devil. Attempting to prolong the moment in which I would be forced to face her, I pulled out my pocket watch. My eyebrows raised slightly; it seemed I had been wandering for nearly two hours. That was quite strange, as I rarely ever let myself go like that. I sighed and tucked it back into my lab coat.

Turning around, I looked down, bemused. Dr. Crescent stood before me, rubbing her wrists self-consciously. She looked quite anxious.

"I need," she began, voice breathless, "I need to talk you." Raising an eyebrow, I folded my arms across my chest.

"And I should do as you request why?" I replied, a slight scowl set upon my lips. She was literally the last person I wanted to talk to at the moment. At this, her face fell and she looked about ready to cry. Surprisingly, she held it in and began once more.

"I need to talk to you," she repeated, "about Sephiroth," Ah that's right, the most dangerous man was to be named after a hamster, "and..and Vincent." It's never one thing with this woman, is it?

"Fine," I stated briskly, turning quickly and walking at my own pace, "Come." I noted that it took her a moment to fully believe me, as she no doubt thought more persuasion was in order, but she nonetheless followed quickly, matching my footfalls almost perfectly.

Stopping suddenly before a door, I peered inside before opening the door and stepping inside. I waited for her to follow suit before shutting the door and locking it appropriately. Though what I was going wasn't going to get me in trouble, I still wasn't all that keen on eavesdroppers.

"Well?" I stated, impatience dominating my tone. Dr. Crescent jumped slightly; she must have been deep in thought. Wringing her hands nervously, she nodded her head.

"Please," she said, pausing to gaze into my face desperately, "please let me see him." I wasn't sure which one she was talking about, but I decided to play along.

"And why should I allow you that privilege?" I replied, a tiny smirk getting the best of my mouth, "So you may indulge your fantasies of rescuing and running off with him?"

"No!" she all but shouted, quickly, covering her mouth. The woman's eyes glanced around the room, clearly in distress, "I just..I just want to see him. That's all. To make sure he's..to make sure he's alright!" She bowed her upper torso before me, palms laying flat on her thighs and tightly closed eyes brimming with tears. "Please, doctor! Just this once, that's all!"

I contemplated this. Say I did humour her and let her into my lab for a brief look. As already stated, what I was doing would not get me into trouble, so it wouldn't necessarily hurt my reputation. But how I loved to watch Dr. Crescent beg and plead, laying her heart on the line only to watch it be shattered, cut open, dissected, and rejected. I allowed a grin to overcome my features at the thought.

There was still another reason, however, where it could prove..beneficial to allow her into my lab. Should my Turk's eyes fall upon her, it would send him into a state of hope and bliss, if only for a short while. After which I would force her to leave, resulting in his defiant spark to once again light up. Though it sounds unfortunate and even irritating to begin with, in all honesty I'll be given the pleasure of taking it away again.

This actually could work to my advantage.

Reaching out, I placed my hand beneath Dr. Crescent's chin and lifted it up with a bit more force than was probably necessary. Nonetheless, she opened her eyes and looked at me, silently pleading for this one request. Smiling coldly, I nodded my head. "Alright," I said and once more, "Come."

Opening the door, I once again led her away and down several long hallways. Fortunately, I wasn't given the burden to make sure she followed as she knew the way quite well herself. It took around fifteen minutes, but soon enough her and I stood side by side before the tightly locked and sealed door. Doing as was required to gain access, I walked inside, not bothering to hold the door open for her.

I stopped and once again entwined my fingers behind my back, observing her reaction. I was slightly curious now. Though it's more likely she would like to see her son, I suppose once she catches site of her former lover, she may rethink coming down for a visit.

My eyes darted quickly as I noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. Was the Turk still awake? Good, I'd like to see how he'll react to Dr. Crescent's presence. And soon enough--

"Lucrecia!" came the all too expected cry, "Lucrecia, you have to…" Valentine glanced at me, then back at her and his eyebrows knitted together, swallowing thickly. I inwardly shook my head. Such a child, displaying his emotions with no regard for his surroundings. This would get him into trouble, surely.

Dr. Crescent gasped and as quickly as her migraine worthy shoes could take her, she was quickly approaching him. However, I can't deny my own delighted surprise as Valentine's face suddenly retracted in what looked like pain. His fists clenched tightly, and his head flew backwards to hit against the table with a loud "thunk". He groaned and twisted, a dark shade of purple emitting from his form. I grinned widely, and could not contain the laughter that escaped my mouth at the sight of his writhing form, agonized cries, and shifting body.

I watched only slight as Dr. Crescent backed away in sudden alarm, only stopping when her back hit the wall. She must have been frightened to death, clearly having no earthly idea what was going on. I for one was nearly doubled over in laughter as Vincent's body grew longer and darker; his flesh extended at odd angles and was soon tinted with red and black. A large head ornament protruded from his head and formed the shape of a large crown. His face grew grey and gaunt, as his hands grew long and almost spider-like. Finally, long, ragged but magnificently beautiful wings struggled to stretch out beneath him.

Taking in deep breaths and letting a high pitched chuckle escape every few seconds, regained my posture and stood to gaze adoringly at such a remarkable creature.

"Beautiful," I said, my arms reaching out, "Just beautiful! My glorious Chaos.. Glorious."

Dr. Crescent's attention snapped towards me and I could just imagine the look of horror on her face. I vaguely heard her shouting at me, asking me what had I done and that this was a monstrosity, but I paid her no mind. My attention was focused on the awe-inspiring demon before me.

As the woman came towards me, she began pummeling my chest with her fists weakly, sobs wracking her body. Tearing my gaze away from Chaos, I looked down at her and smirked. "This is your project," I whispered into her ear, "Your thesis, your doing. Without you, this never would have happened." With that, my hand enclosed around her forearm and I yanked her roughly, stalking back towards the doors.

At some point I heard her screaming, begging with me to see her son, saying she just wanted the chance to meet him. I ignored such pleading and within a few moments, threw her out the door, closing it and locking it efficiently.

Turning back once more towards Chaos, I gazed at its struggling form, clearly in pain due to the Protomateria. It's golden eyes pierced me, glaring in the utmost blatant display of loathing and hatred I had ever witnessed.

All I could do was grin.


End file.
